Infatuated

One

"Fucking shit!"

I hissed as I picked the small, broken piece of glass out of the top of my foot.

That was the third dish I've broken since my family left for their vacation without me.

I had to stay home and catch up on my school work during spring break because I was in the hospital for a couple days. I ended up missing two weeks though because I didn't feel like going to school after I had crippled myself. The reason I was in the hospital and crippled is because my clumsy ass can't properly ride a bike and fell, fracturing my tibia. If that doesn't sound bad enough, I also fell on a glass bottle which ended up in my side and almost punctured an organ.

I should really not be allowed around glass anymore.

The extent of my injuries really weren't that bad, but I wasn't even do more than walk for the first week otherwise I would rip my stitches. It's not like I can even walk anyways considering that I practically broke my fucking leg. Now I just limp around my house with one crutch.

My parents had been planning this vacation for months and just couldn't reschedule. So that's why I'm in Michigan and they're in the Bahamas.

The only thing I'm really upset about is that none of my four siblings would stay home with me.

Sighing, I carefully picked up the glass. Which I had gotten pretty good at in the past few days.

My mom's gonna be pissed when I tell her that it's only been two days and three of her dishes have been broken.

Once I had gotten all the shards in the garbage I put my quesadilla on a paper plate because I'm done with breaking things and cutting myself on the pieces.

I heard the familiar ring tone of Back to Back by Drake and picked the phone up quickly.

"What's up Damiana?" I answered putting the phone on speaker so I could finish my quesadilla.

"Not much Ebony, how 'bout you."

"Well, I just broke another plate but besides that nothing."

"A third one?" she questioned.

"Yup."

"Did you tell your mom about this one yet?"

"I didn't tell her about the first two dishes yet."

"She's gonna kill you."

"I know." I said.

"And it's not like you could run."

"Good one."

"Are you done with your homework yet?" she asked.

"Haven't even started."

"You do realize you have four days left to complete two weeks worth of work from seven classes right?"

"Actually art and gym don't count, so five classes." I retorted.

"I'm coming over to help and slap some sense into you." she stated.

"Have fun." I said before she hung up.

I didn't sound like it but I'm actually really happy that she's coming over because I don't get any of the work I was given and Damiana takes advanced classes and maintains a 4.5 GPA. And I definitely need her help.

After I finished my quesadilla, I threw my plate in the garbage and made my way to my living room and got my backpack and planner out. I then made a list of the things I needed to do and wanted to get done school-wise, which I learned to do in an extremely helpful Youtube video.